


as long as they don't touch

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Bobbi spills coffee on Lance, Lance spills (metaphorical) tea on Bobbi.





	as long as they don't touch

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "You're clearly hurting, stop putting up a strong front."

Three days after S.H.I.E.L.D. falls, Lance Hunter walks into a coffee shop, and sees his ex-wife sitting in the corner.

He would be willing to write this off as coincidence, but Izzy had been the one to send him out for coffee, and there’s never coincidence involved if Iz has anything to say about it. Lance isn’t exactly sure why Izzy would want him to speak to Bobbi - normally she’s of the opposite mind, trying to keep them as far away from each other as possible - but he’s not in the mood to play her games. He just wants to get the damn coffee and leave.

Things don’t go his way, of course. The in between isn’t all that important, but suffice it to say, neither Bobbi nor Hunter was particularly thrilled when he ended up covered in her coffee.

Hunter’s not entirely sure Izzy didn’t plan this. He doesn’t know how, but she _did_.

“Sorry,” Bobbi mutters as she begins blotting at the coffee stain with a wad of napkins. Hunter almost wants to laugh, because it’s the sort of things strangers do, and he and Bobbi are far from strangers.

“It’s fine,” Lance replies. The shirt he’s wearing is definitely ruined, so it’s not actually that fine, but he just wants to get back to Izzy and complain to her about orchestrating a run-in with Bobbi.

“Why are you even here?” Bobbi asks, irritated. “You don’t even like coffee.” He doesn’t - he, like any good Brit, prefers tea.

“Three guesses,” Hunter responds drily, stepping back from his ex-wife so she’ll stop fussing over the stain on his shirt.

“Think I only need one,” Bobbi says. “Izzy needs to stop sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Izzy’s nothing short of a force of nature. Lance does have to admit he’s curious as to why Bobbi’s so vitriolic; normally she’s barely more than indifferent when Izzy starts meddling.

“I should get going.”

“Actually,” Hunter interrupts, “do you have any of my shirts at your place?” This morning, he only had one clean shirt. Now he has zero, and Iz had told him he needed to look smart for some meeting or other. She’ll be pissed if he shows up in a tank top, or in something that stinks.

Bobbi looks at him incredulously. She opens her mouth, probably preparing an indignant response, but then seems to realize that if she asks the question (do you _think_ I have any of your shirts?), he’ll answer her. They both know of her habit of stealing his clothing when they were married.

“Yeah.” Two spots of pink appear on her cheeks, and Hunter pointedly ignores them. He’s going for civil. He’s sure that’ll collapse when it’s just the two of them alone, without the eyes of the strangers in the coffee shop on them, but for now, civility is working.

The walk back to her flat is short and silent. Hunter follows Bobbi up the flight of stairs and into her apartment. He waits outside her bedroom for her to emerge; when she does, she’s holding a single shirt.

“Thanks,” he says, accepting the shirt when she holds it out to him.

They’re both quiet.

“Izzy gave me -”

“Good,” Bobbi interrupts before he can finish the sentence. “It’s yours anyways.”

Lance just nods, even though he disagrees. The Franny’s keychain had been one of the things in their relationship that was always theirs - a possession that belonged equally to both of them, in a way that few other things had. He had been the one to buy it, but it had been theirs.

“I’m sorry. About S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Hunter offers quietly.

Bobbi snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re _really_ sorry.”

“Hey,” he retorts sharply. “I never liked S.H.I.E.L.D., but even _I_ wouldn’t wish it be infiltrated by literal Nazis.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi replies coldly. She looks away from him, arms crossed over her chest.

“Bob,” Lance sighs. “I know things suck between us -” understatement of the century, really - “but you’re clearly hurting. Stop putting up a strong front.” S.H.I.E.L.D. was Bobbi's life. It would be wrong if she  _wasn't_ hurting after what had happened.

“No.” If Bobbi had been cold earlier, she’s absolutely glacial now. “This isn’t how it works, Lance. We don’t - we’re divorced.” Her voice is crackling with ice and frost, and Hunter swallows a sigh.

“You need to let someone in, sweetheart,” he tells her. The pet name slips out by accident, but Bobbi seems keen on ignoring it.

“If you’re suggesting that someone is you -” she begins.

“I’m _not_.” Okay, maybe he had been, but that’s beside the point. “I don’t care who it is, but I don’t want you to do this to yourself again.”

She glares at him, but she doesn’t have a retort ready. Lance has watched Bobbi tear herself apart over things she had no control over too many times for either of them to deny that it’s happened.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I am talking to someone. I have this all under control.”

“Good,” Hunter says, voice even. Needless to say, he doesn’t believe her.

Bobbi glares at him for a few beats longer before dropping her gaze again.

“Are you going to change your shirt or not?” She asks.

“You going to watch?” He retorts.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Bobbi jibes back. “Think I’ll see your naked torso and fall madly in love with you again?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think about my _naked torso_ , Barbara.” Hunter’s glad for this. Even if it’s arguing, at least she has a little bit of fire in her eyes again. He had been worried she was empty.

“Just change the damn shirt, Hunter,” she snaps.

He does, taking his time with each button. Bobbi rolls her eyes at him as he peels off the soiled shirt, throwing it in her general direction.

Hunter takes even longer putting on the new shirt. It smells like Bobbi, which throws him for a loop. The shirt hasn’t been languishing away in the back corner of her closer since the divorce. She’s worn it. His stomach flips, but he forces himself to remain calm as he finishes with the last button.

“I’ll get the coffee out of this one and send it to Izzy when it’s done,” Bobbi says brusquely. “You should be going.”

“I can just wash it myself,” Lance argues. Contrary to popular belief, he knows how to use a washing machine.

“ _No_.” Bobbi says, more forcefully than necessary. She’s clutching onto the shirt like a lifeline. “Just - go, Hunter.”

He nods. “Stay safe, Bob.”

“That’s not your line,” she accuses as he walks towards the door.

“Seems kind of like tempting fate at this point,” Hunter says, leaning against the wall by the doorway nonchalantly.

“Well, we’re good at that.” She shrugs. “Some would say it’s tempting fate for the two of us to be here, alone.”

“Maybe Izzy just really wants us to shag,” Hunter suggests. Again, it seems kind of diametrically opposed to Iz’s normal goals when it came to him and Bobbi, and their relationship, but he has stopped trying to figure out Izzy Hartley a long time ago.

“If she asks, you can tell her we did. She’d believe it,” Bobbi says. He is wearing a different shirt than he left in, after all.

“What would be the fun in that?” Hunter asks.

Bobbi shrugs. “I never do know what’s going on in your head.”

“I’m easier to figure out than you think, Bob,” Lance says. He pushes off the wall, opening the door. “And so are you.”

With that, he sweeps out of Bobbi’s flat, leaving a slightly confused ex-wife in his wake.

Hunter’s confused, too. He doesn’t know why Izzy planned any of this - or if she planned it at all. He doesn’t know why Bobbi’s still wearing his old shirts, and he doesn’t know how they managed to walk away from that encounter with their dignities still intact.

He does know one thing, though: he’s still in love with Bobbi Morse.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends. I am not dead, just currently dying. 
> 
> If you're curious: in my head, Izzy totally did orchestrate this meeting, because Bobbi is _not_ talking to anyone and she figured Hunter had as good a chance as anyone of getting her to talk.
> 
> Hit me up on [tumblr](https://huntxngbxrd.tumblr.com)!


End file.
